


Golden Joinery

by sunaddicted



Series: Nygmobblepot Week 2k18 [6]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Friendship, Kintsugi, M/M, Mayor and Chief of Staff, Nygmobblepot Week 2018, One-Sided Attraction, Pre-Slash, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-23
Updated: 2018-03-23
Packaged: 2019-04-06 11:09:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14055654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunaddicted/pseuds/sunaddicted
Summary: Oswald watched Edward almost crash face-first in the closed door as he left.He was so whipped it wasn't even funny.





	Golden Joinery

_Golden Joinery_

Being bullied for most of his life hadn't exactly made out of Oswald Cobblepot a people person and the fact that he had gained respect only through murder and cunning didn't warm him up at all to gatherings full of fawning sycophants - even if it was extremely satisfying, seeing how the masses adored him now.

He just needed a break, from time to time, especially now that he was the city's Mayor and he had to amp up his charm in order to avoid people remembering who exactly they had voted for - or he would snap under the tension and kill the first person that annoyed him.  

Which was no good, at least not in public.  

Or so Edward said.  

Electing him as his Chief of Staff had been one of the smartest decisions he had ever made; Oswald didn't know what he would do without the other man: probably mix up his schedules and go to some stupid inauguration or school tour with a shotgun.  

Considering his dislike of children, that might have actually happened out of exasperation at the thought of having to walk the hallways of yet another building full of screaming kids, waving their sticky hands everywhere and bumping in people without even as much as an apology when they scurried away to spread even more chaos.  

Just the thought was enough to make him cringe, the tendrils of a headache blooming and throbbing at the base of his skull.

“You're murdering that paperwork with your gaze”

He could have done without Edward constantly sneaking up on him, though “Crap" Oswald sighed, looking down at the shattered cup of tea; thankfully, his office in town hall wasn't carpeted like the one at the manor - the porcelain came from his father's collection, though.

Edward had thought it would be nice for Oswald to have something familiar with him during the long work hours they kept - something that would remind him of home, of his legacy “I'm so sorry”

“It's okay. It's just a cup, don't worry” Oswald gently batted Edward's hands away from the wreckage, ignoring the way his fingers trembled when they brushed against the other's skin “Be careful, don't cut yourself - call someone from the clean-up crew”

Gently but firmly, Edward pushed Oswald's hands out of his way and scooped up the broken pieces of porcelain in his handkerchief, tying it neatly to avoid disseminating sharp shards everywhere, leaving only dust on the parameter floor “I don't want to throw it away"

“I know you like puzzles but it's broken in too many pieces to glue it back together”

“Do you trust me?”

What a silly question “With my life, you know that”

Edward's smile was brilliant: all dimples framing his mouth and crow’s feet at the corner of his eyes and a furrow in between his eyebrows.

It took Oswald's breath away.

“Then trust me with a broken cup”

Oswald raised his hands in defeat “Fine, fine” he conceded with a fond roll of his eyes “Far be it from me to ruin your fun” after all, if Edward didn't manage to repair it in a way that would restore the functionality of the cup, they could toss it away later and bring to the office another one from the set: there was no harm in letting the man try, especially when it put such a childlike expression of glee on his face.

Edward straightened up, one hand absentmindedly dusting the knees of his trousers to shake away any dust or wrinkles that had gathered there “I'll show you how to do it tonight, if you want” his offer was tentative, as if expecting rejection.  

Oswald supposed that not many people in the other man's life had ever shown much interest in his hobbies “Sure”

“Great!” He would have clasped his hands together, if it hadn't been for the bundle he was holding: accidentally stabbing himself with a broken cup wasn't exactly in the plans “I'll pick the supplies up”

“I'll see you at home” Oswald reassured “What do you want to eat tonight?”

Edward shrugged, his mind already focused on the puzzle at hand: solving one usually meant to break it down, it would be fun to apply the reverse process to the matter “Whatever. Something light”

“I'll tell Olga to make a quick pasta dish” which wasn't really that much of a light meal, but Oswald was his mother's son and a voice in his head constantly nagged at him that Edward needed feeding up; he already looked healthier than when he had met him, his body subtly filled out by Oswald's care and attention and Olga’s hearty cooking.

“Sounds nice”

From Edward's focused expression, Oswald suspected that he could have proposed the other man a whole roasted pig and he would have given the same answer - it was… endearing.  

Had it been anyone else ignoring him in such a way, Oswald would have shouted at them.

At least.

Depending on how good his mood was.  

Oswald watched Edward almost crash face-first in the closed door as he left.

He was so whipped it wasn't even funny.  

* * *

Dinner was everything that breakfast wasn't: they both were usually tired at the end of the day, their minds still buried in work to talk about anything else but what they had accomplished during the day and what still needed to be done; whereas at breakfast, they would go over the newspaper together and exchange opinions, have a companionable laugh over the society pages and mark down cultural events they would have liked to go to if they only had the time.  

That night, though, as soon as Edward had impatiently polished his plateful of spaghetti with tomato sauce - relatively light, as a condiment, and onion free - and drained the last of his wine, the man seemed to be content to shelve any serious talk and put on the table their entertainment for the evening.

Oswald observed with fascination the methodic way his friend laid out everything they needed: a thick and old cloth, presumably to prevent any damage to the wooden surface of the table; the pieces of the cup, cleaned and arranged in a clearly logic manner; a tub of something he supposed it was some kind of super-strong glue;  a soft looking and thin brush, not unlike the one he used for his eyeliner; a small pot he had absolutely no idea what held inside; a mixing dish.

“Have you ever heard of Kintsugi?”

Oswald shook his head “No”

“It's the Japanese art of repairing broken pottery with lacquer mixed with powdered gold, platinum or silver” Edward explained, unscrewing the top of the pot to show the other man the gold dust inside.

“That sounds expensive, just to fix a broken piece of china" Oswald pointed out as Edward poured the lacquer on the mixing dish and added a couple of generous spoonfuls of gold dust, shimmering faintly under the warm and low light of the dining room.  

Edward hummed in agreement “It is. But the final result is astounding” he reassured as he dipped the brush in the mixture and started spreading it along the edge of a big shard of porcelain “The philosophy behind it is pretty neat too”

“Something about embracing your flaws?” Oswald inquired as he took in his hands the piece the other man had just finished working on, careful of not touching the layer of lacquer, so that he could easily focus on another piece.  

“Breakage and repair are part of the history of an object, not something that has to be hidden” Edward concurred “Much like scars on human skin, they're a sign of survival and strength”

Well, that was deep.

Deeper than he had expected from an evening of découpage.

Oswald watched the way Edward pressed the two treated pieces together, gold filling in the crack - just like the other man's friendship had filled the gaping holes in his heart, making it flutter every time he looked at him with anything resembling tenderness and love.  

“Do you want to try?”

Oswald nodded: for once, it would be nice fixing something instead of breaking it.

**Author's Note:**

> I struggled a lot with this prompt, I hope it came out nicely


End file.
